


The Sons of Loki

by Ne_Obliviscaris



Series: Mischief and Honey [4]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Children, F/M, Family Drama, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 12:58:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13077363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ne_Obliviscaris/pseuds/Ne_Obliviscaris
Summary: Baldur and Jormungr, friendless princes of their realms. But circumstance throws them together and they form an unlikely friendship. When Asgard is threatened, and truths come to light, can that friendship survive? Set 12 yrs after The Trickster's War; Trigger warning: there is referenced child abuse.





	1. Two Boys

Baldur hid in the shadows the garden, the spell of invisibility wrapped tightly around himself. Not three feet away stood Father and Mother, repairing a broken bee box. From an open door wafted the hesitant strains of a harp. A note was missed and the music stopped. A low rumble came, followed by a high, girlish giggle.

"Fandral has to charm everyone," remarked Father, "even eight-year-old girls."

"He dotes on Joan," replied Mother. "I keep telling him he's going to spoil her."

"If 'Uncle' Fandral wasn't going to do it, someone would."

"Thor might if he weren't so upset. Any word from Jane?"

"I visited her this morning on Midgard. She has no wish to return."

Mother tied off a knot harder than necessary. "I know for a fact Frigga explained to her that she would be Queen of Asgard one day and that it wasn't a position easily left."

"Well, I know the nobles heaved a sigh of relief and made their proposal all the more appealing to Thor."

"Damn the nobles."

Baldur blinked. He had never heard his mother swear before.

Father smiled at her, leaning forward to kiss her just below the ear. "You're just angry at what's been decided."

"He's too young, Loki."

"I was introduced at Court at twelve and Thor was beginning to be groomed for the throne from that age as well. And he has a little over a month to get ready and to get used to the idea."

"Twelve isn't old enough."

"It is on Asgard." He smiled. "Why don't we ask him? Baldur, you can come out now."

With a sigh, Baldur released the spell and came forward into the light. "How did you know, Father?"

"I'm your father. I know everything."

"Baldur," chided Mother, "you shouldn't eavesdrop. If I hear of you doing that, I'll have you helping the stablemaster. Again."

"I don't know. I think he must like horses, as often as he gets sent there."

Baldur made a face. "I don't like horses. They smell."

Mother and Father smiled. Father said, "So you heard everything that was said a moment ago."

"Yes, sir."

"What do you think?"

"Of what? Of being presented at Court?"

"More than that." Father set aside his tools and knelt down so he could look his son in the eye. "As you know, Queen Jane never bore a child. And now she's gone off to Midgard, swearing she'll never return. Asgard has gone too long without an heir. You are the nearest male relative-"

"No. That's not true. You're Uncle Thor's brother."

"Do not interrupt. And there are reasons why I can't be named an heir."

"What kind of reasons?"

"Reasons that aren't important right now. But what's important is that you are going to be named Uncle Thor's heir at your presentation."

Baldur stared at his father. "Me?"

"Yes. It's a very big responsibility and it won't be many years before you'll be named King. And over those years, you'll be taught how to be a good, wise King. I know you've been taught etiquette and all that, but over the next month, you'll be getting daily lessons. I want you to focus on your lessons. No mischief, whatsoever."

Mother snorted. Father gave her a look before turning back to Baldur. "If I hear from your taskmasters that you have shirked your duty, or played some trick, you will answer to me. Do you understand?"

Mother had Baldur do menial tasks, like wash the floors or clean the stables, whenever he was caught doing something he shouldn't. The last time Father assigned a punishment, he spent all day in the nearby forest searching for an herb that he learned later didn't exist.

"You're scaring him, darling," said Mother.

"Are you frightened, Baldur?" he asked.

"No, sir," the boy replied. "I won't let you down, Father."

"Good." Loki stood. "Now, I saw the guards' children playing earlier, in the meadow. Why don't you join them?"

The meadow was adjacent to the practice rings behind the Palace. The last time Baldur had gone there, the boys thought it would be a good sport to throw pine cones at him, which he turned into swallows. The boys went running back to their fathers, crying that strange little Baldur was casting spells at them. He hadn't returned to the meadow since.

"Yes, Father," he said. Turning he walked out, but instead of the meadows, he went to the great Palace library. Finding a book on transmutation, he sat at the window and began to read.

#

After he had gone, Sigrid said, "You know he isn't going to the meadow."

"I know." He picked up a small screwdriver and began working on the loose side. "But I feel like I should encourage him."

"The children refuse to play with him ever since he learned his first spell."

"It couldn't be helped. It was either teach him magic or clean up broken shards of whatever breakable thing he was standing near when he threw a tantrum."

"Joan hasn't shown any inclinations."

"She may be a late bloomer." He smiled at her. "You were." He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close. Leaning forward, he kissed her on the cheek. "Remember when you blasted your cousin across the garden? I wish I had been there to see that."

"I could have killed her."

"It would have saved us a lot of trouble later."

"Loki." She wiggled out of his arm.

"What? It's a practical thought."

She shot him a look as she went back to her fixing the torn side of the box. Loki tried not to sigh. When he returned to Asgard nearly twelve years ago, things were strained between them. It was obvious forgiving him was hard for Sigrid, for her temperament was inclined to keeping grudges. Over time, their relationship warmed, but she still felt distant to him. It didn't help, he supposed, that on some nights he stood on the balcony to stare at the stars, picking out Jotunheim from the clusters of constellations. He tried to do it when she was sleeping but no one could hide something from Sigrid Sigynsdotter for very long.

"We need to find him a friend," said Sigrid, breaking his reverie.

"Baldur is very much like me. He won't make friends easily, even if he was accepted. And though I think making him the heir is the right thing to do, it's only going to isolate him more."

"I wish I had had another son."

He grinned, taking her back up in his arms. "We could try again." He raised his brows before leaning down to kiss along her neck and Sigrid laughed. Her laughter, so rare now, danced at his heartstrings and, for a brief moment, his longing for Jotunheim lifted a little and things were as they once had been...before.

#

"Jormungr, you return this instant!"

But he ignored his father and ran from the throne room, down the halls, and up the stairs, flying to his mother's chambers. His mother and her maids looked up from sewing robes.

"Whatever is the matter, child?" Mother asked.

"Mother, I can't do it! And he won't make me!"

"Everyone, leave us."

The maids left, the door swinging shut behind them. Mother gestured for him to sit next to her. He did, snuggling into her side.

"You must be talking about being officially named his heir," she said.

"Not really. I don't mind that. It's what I have to do that day that I don't want to do."

"A Jotun King is a dispenser of justice. It is only right for you to execute a prisoner upon your naming day, so that you may feel the consequences of judging a person guilty."

"My weaponsmaster doesn't like it."

"Your weaponsmaster already treads shaky ground with your father. I think it would be best if you didn't spread news of his opinion." She wrapped her arm around her son and hugged him close. "I know it seems like a horrid thing, but it would be over with quickly. And you'll never have to do it again."

They were silent for a short time. Finally, Jormungr said, "I ran out of the throne room. He will be looking to punish me. Mother, why does Father hate me so much?" He looked up at her.

A deep sadness filled her face. "When you are older, I will tell you."

"I'm to be a man in a few months. Will you tell me then?"

"Perhaps. But so much will be happening that day, that I may wait a while."

"That's fine. As long as you tell me."

She smiled at him and kissed his forehead. "Now, run along. If your Father comes looking for you, I didn't see you."

"Thank you, Mother."

He jumped down out of the chair (for he was shorter than he should have been and his feet swung off the floor no matter what chair he sat in) and ran out of the room, going the back way to the library. As he swung the door shut, a scroll fell from a tall pile onto the floor. He scooped it up, intending to send it flying back to its place when he recognized the handwriting of the title.

It was a scroll written by his father and was simply entitled "A Short Treatise on the Ways". Jormungr was trained in magic like any child, and though his proficiency exceeded everyone's expectations, he was still forced to learn at their pace. He had never heard of "the Ways".

Unrolling the scroll, he began to read.


	2. Unexpected Meetings

"...and if a diplomat should sit next to you, you may initiate a conversation without an official introduction. But he may not initiate the conversation with you." Lord Bjork smiled, adjusting this robes. "Any questions?"

"Can I go to the latrine?" asked Baldur.

"Yes, of course."

Baldur left the room, went down the hall, past the latrine, and was just picking up speed when he rounded a corner, running straight into his father.

"Father," he gasped, falling back.

Loki raised a brow. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"Um."

He smirked. "Which lesson was Bjork on today?"

"Diplomatic relations."

"And what have you learned?"

"I can start conversations. I shouldn't pick my nose at the table. And I should avoid talking about anything serious before dessert has been served."

"Sounds like you've learned just about everything you need to know. But you still haven't told me where you were going."

"Er, I was going to...stretch my legs."

"I see. Then would the prince care to walk with me?"

Baldur made a face. "You're not going to start talking like that, too?"

Father laughed. "No. Come along."

"What about Boring Bjork?"

"Is that what you call him?"

Baldur flushed.

"It's all right." Stopping a nearby servant, Father instructed him to tell Lord Bjork his pupil would be out for a short while.

Baldur and his father walked down the hall, veering off down a veranda overlooking a large courtyard. They didn't talk for a while.

Finally, Baldur said, "Can I ask you a question, Father?"

"Certainly."

"Why is Mother sad?"

Loki didn't answer for a moment. "What makes you think she's sad?"

"She just looks it sometimes."

"Let's sit."

They stepped off the veranda and into the courtyard, sitting beside the fountain on a bench.

"Baldur," he said, "you've hurt people's feelings before. Like your sister's?"

"Yes, sir."

"But that was forgiven. Did that forgiveness mean those hurtful things never happened?"

"No."

"Well. I hurt your mother's feelings once. I couldn't really help it but it happened."

"And Mother hasn't forgiven you?"

"I'm sure she has. But it still makes her sad."

"When will she stop being sad?"

Loki sighed. "I don't know. I hope so." They were silent a moment. Then, Loki said, "I know you don't like going to the meadow, Baldur."

Baldur looked down at the toes of his boots. "The kids don't like me. They say I'm a freak."

Father frowned, wrapping an arm around him. "You are not a freak, Baldur."

"Yes, I am. None of the other kids can do magic."

"Just because you're the only one who can doesn't make you a freak. Your mother and I can work magic. And, one day, so will Joan. You aren't alone, Baldur." A strange, sad looked crossed his face and he looked at Baldur earnestly. "Never for a moment think that."

"I just wish I had someone like me to play with."

"You will one day." He squeezed his shoulder again before letting go. "So. You were running away when I came by, I think?"

Baldur tried very hard not to look guilty. "I was bored."

"I get bored, too, but you don't see me running out of council meetings." He ruffled his son's hair. "I'll let you get away with it just this once."

"Thank you, Father."

"Now, off you go. Back to Boring Bjork."

#

It wasn't until nightfall that Jormungr finally got away from his lessons. His back hurt from the cane and he knew he wouldn't be able to remember all of the customs and etiquette drilled into his head. The way everyone was going on, you would think he was going to be crowned king the next day. In the distance, he heard Mother calling for him to come to supper, but, for the first time in his life, he ignored her voice. He kept going until he reached the ice garden on the tallest level of the Palace.

This garden was his very favorite place to go. No one came up here and he felt oddly at peace there. Jormungr walked down the paths, coming to a large frozen fountain in the center. At the top of fountain stood two Jotuns entwined in a passionate embrace. The faces looked familiar but years of ice had hidden some of the details. One of these days, he was going to clean that fountain to get a better look at the figures.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled a small scroll from a satchel he kept on him, to carry reading material in. (One more thing to be teased about.) Unrolling it revealed a small map sketched by one of the Jotuns who had visited the Palace of Asgard. Jormungr had memorized the scroll he had found last night and, after careful meditation, felt ready to try to put it to use. And if he never came back, then who would care?

The image of his mother, heartbroken and crying, flashed through his mind. Jormungr was her only child. She had never had another with Thrym and, for some reason, Jormungr always felt like Thrym hated her for that.

Pushing aside all these thoughts, he picked what appeared to be another garden out of the way of the main Palace traffic. He intended to wrap himself in invisibility, walk around a little, and then come back to Jotunheim. The idea of getting caught by Heimdall frightened him but surely the guardian knew how bad things were in his home. Surely he would go easy on him?

Closing his eyes, Jormungr reached for the lines of magic, arranging them as he needed, then took a step forward. Something jerked at his gut and then he was falling, heel over head, as bright flashes of color whipped pass him. He gulped back a scream as he felt as if the skin was going to be flayed off of him. Then, another jerk, he landed on his feet, and the world stilled.

In front of him grew a bush with dark green leaves and red flowers. The air felt warm against him and goosebumps prickled his skin. Slowly, he reached out and stroked the petal of one of the flowers. The petal immediately froze and wilted. Jormungr jerked back his hand.

"What are you doing here?"

He turned around. A little Asgardian boy stood behind him. He had curly black hair, bright blue eyes, and was dressed in dark blue and green. "There wasn't a scheduled visit from Jotunheim today," he said.

"Um," said Jormungr, "it's a surprise."

The boy frowned. "Surprises aren't allowed."

"That's not in the treaty."

"No. But it's still not allowed. For...diplomatic reasons." The boy lifted his chin, as if proud to use that word.

"Who are you?"

"I am Prince Baldur, son of Prince Loki. Who are you?"

Now it was Jormungr's turn to lift his chin. "I am Prince Jormungr, son of King Thrym."

Baldur looked him over. "You're kind of short for a Frost Giant."

"You're kind of short for an Asgardian."

"Asgardians don't go to Jotunheim and you've never been here or I would have met you. So, how do you know if I'm short?"

Baldur had him there. "Um."

"I'll have you know that I'm considered tall for my age, like both my parents. And you still haven't answered my question: what are you doing here?"

Jormungr shifted a little. "I came for a visit."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

Baldur didn't seem to have a rebuttal to that. "Do you want to see my mother's garden? It's much nicer than this one. And both her and my father are out, so they won't catch us."

"I can't go walking around like this. Someone will see me."

"Oh, a glamour is easy." The boy walked up and waved his hands around Jormungr. He felt tingling lines of magic fall over him. "There. Anyone sees you will think you're just a kid like me. Just don't touch anything."

Jormungr looked down at his hands. He could make out smaller, ghostlike hands over his own. "How did you do that?"

"It was easy. Father taught me ages ago."

"Can you teach me?"

"Sure. Come on. Hey, can I call you Jor?"

"Um. All right."

#

Baldur was so excited, his feet barely touched the ground on the way to the garden. He did keep an eye out, to make sure Jor didn't brush up against anyone or anything. But the Frost Giant boy moved with a grace and ease that kept him from freezing anything. Baldur envied him. It seemed like every day he was breaking something out of clumsiness.

The garden in the center of their chambers was empty. Water gurgled while bees hovered over flowers.

"It's beautiful," said Jor. "Do you live here?"

"Yeah. My room is through there." He pointed off to the side. "Father had it built when I was old enough to sleep in my own chamber. Through there are my parents' chambers. My sister Joan still sleeps in the spare room in there."

"Sister?"

"Yeah. She's eight and a complete pest. Don't you have any siblings?"

"No."

"That sounds great! Joan keeps trying to follow me around."

"It's not. I think I would like to have a brother or a sister."

"I think my father wants to have another child but Mother doesn't."

"Why not?"

"I don't know."

Jor looked around. "What are those buzzing things?"

"Bees. Don't you have bees in Jotunheim? You must. You have mead and you need honey to make mead."

"The bees live deep underground. I've never seen one before. Why are there so many?"

"My mother, Sigrid, she uses honey in her magic. And she uses fire. She can make anything in a hearth. One time, she made me a little black horse with grey speckling. She said she used to have a horse like that called Coal. Wanna see?"

Jor blinked as if a little bewildered at his new friend's excitement. "All right."

Baldur took him into his room and showed him the toy. He also showed him the different trinkets that Father had brought him on his travels.

"I wish my Father had done the same," Jor said.

"Your father doesn't go on trips?"

"He does. But he doesn't bring me anything."

Baldur couldn't imagine not getting something from his father when he got back from a trip. "Here." Reaching over, he picked up a silver ball with gold filigree. "Father got this when he visited the dwarves."

"I cannot take your trinket."

"It's okay. If you never come back, you'll have something to remember me."

Jor slowly took the ball, careful to not let his fingers brush Baldur's. "I...would like to come back."

Baldur grinned. "Really?"

"Yes."

"If you wait a couple of days, maybe I'll have a better way of disguising you figured out."

"I'll do research of my own. I'm not supposed to study magic on my own but I do anyway."

"My father lets me study but I'm not supposed to do new spells without him or Mother watching."

"I like your parents."

"You could meet them but Father would recognize you. He can see right through illusions." Baldur told him about the invisibility spell from the other day.

"Huh. Well. I should go before I'm missed."

"Will you come back?"

"Yes." Jor smiled. "I will be back in two days."

"Come here. At night."

"See you then. Bye, Baldur."

"Bye, Jor."

With an icy whoosh of air, Jor disappeared.

#

That night, after a tense dinner, Jormundr retreated to his room. From a drawer of the table by his bed, he took out the silver ball. Staring down at it, he felt a shiver of excitement.

He had a friend.


	3. A Morning's Work

I frowned when Baldur came running up to the breakfast table, grinning as he quickly piled his plate full of food.

"You must be really excited about lessons today," I said. "Joan, darling, be careful. You'll stain your dress."

Joan carefully set the cup back on the table. "Yes, Mama."

"Where's Father?" asked Baldur.

"He left early this morning." I pushed my plate away. "He has to help Uncle Thor drill the soldiers today."

"Can I go watch?"

"Can I go watch?" mimicked Joan.

Baldur made a face at his sister. "Don't copy me."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

I sighed. "Stop it, both of you. No, Baldur, you can't. You have lessons." I eyed him. "What are you studying today?"

"Geography and history," he said around a mouth full of fried potato.

"Chew, swallow, and then speak. Why are you so excited about that?"

He shrugged, his face going flat like his father's when Loki was trying to hide something. I restrained the urge to sigh again. If it weren't for the curl in Baldur's hair, one would think Loki had gotten up one morning, spat, and there was Baldur. Joan was more like me, with curly red hair and blue eyes with a greenish hue. But she had Loki's high cheekbones and impudent grin.

"Baldur," I said, "remember what we discussed the other day. You have to avoid getting into trouble or you have your father to answer to."

"I know. I just... I made a friend."

I smiled. "That's wonderful. What's your new friend's name?"

"Jor."

I thought of all the children in the Palace but couldn't place the name. "I don't think I know him. Do his parents work in the Palace?"

"No." He shoveled more food into his mouth.

"Well, how did you meet him?"

He chewed with exaggerated care and swallowed before answering. "In one of the gardens. He was visiting."

"Is he coming back today?"

"No. He won't come back for another couple of days."

"Well, ask him if he wants to join us for supper. I'd like to meet your new friend."

"Okay." Baldur carefully didn't meet my eyes and I wondered what he was up to.

And, just like that, I felt very old. I wondered what Eartha and cousin Joan were up to on Midgard. Time passed differently and I aged much more slowly. Joan and Eartha now looked much older than I and both were married with children. I made only rare appearances because it was too hard to explain things to their husbands and kids. And what with how things were going on Midgard, it was best to keep a low profile.

Baldur finished his meal at lightning speed, asked to be excused, and then bolted for the door.

"Mama? Are you sick?" Joan looked up at me with innocent eyes.

"No, sweetheart. I'm fine."

After breakfast, Brin brought her daughter Britt over and the two little girls played in the garden while Brin and I spun dyed wool into thread. It was a task I had mastered a few years ago and I found it very soothing. The thread would be used in making the garments of the Royal family. There were plenty of women in the city below that could have done the task as well but I enjoyed being occupied.

Once a few skeins were finished, Brin took the two girls away to teach them their lessons while I went into my study. I was working on a new spell that would allow me to scry through any fire in any realm. It would have to be from a special, central point. I wouldn't be able to pick up any random flame and stare into it. Unbidden, the thought came to me that it would be ideal for keeping an eye on Loki.

I threw my book down in frustration. When had I lost all trust in my husband? Even as I asked myself the question, I knew that wasn't quite right. I trusted him...to a point. But twice, he had left me. Twice, I had felt abandoned. And I could tell myself all day (and sometimes I did) that it wasn't entirely Loki's fault. That, in the end, he had chosen me. He had come home to me.

But what if he had done so only out of a sense of duty?

"He loves me," I said aloud as if hearing it made it more believable.

I thought about all of the affectionate things he had done, all the pretty words and trinkets he had showered on me, and I wanted to believe. But there was a tiny, cold part of my heart that was untouched by it all. When I let my mind stop spinning, when I listened to that part of my heart, the question arose: What about when the Quatrain call on him? Will he come home a third time?

And that, I realized, was the thorn in the heart of the matter.

#

Thor sat astride Sleipnir, watching the drills, as Loki rode up on his own mount. "Good morning, brother," he said.

Thor glanced at him. "Good morning."

"Do you find your men to be fighting fit?"

"They could use improvement."

"We all could use improvement, brother."

Thor grunted but did not reply. Loki restrained the urge to sigh. Ever since Jane had left, choosing mortality over immortality, Thor had been in less than a genial mood.

"How goes my heir-to-be?" asked the Allfather.

"He is well. Poor lad is being drilled by a lord he's termed as Boring Bjork. But he'll manage."

They sat in silence for a long moment. Finally, Loki said, "Thor, I've been wanting to talk to you-"

"I think you are the last person I want to take advice from on romance, Loki."

That stung but he bowed his head. "I suppose you're right."

Thor gave him a sideways glance. "How's Sigrid?"

"Keeping busy. Joan has started some new lessons and is coming along well. Fandral has been teaching her the harp and-"

"I ask you about Sigrid and you start talking about your youngest child. Not the best evasion you've made."

This time, Loki did sigh. "I don't think she's quite forgiven me for Angrboda."

"I told you you wouldn't be able to fall back into her arms easily."

"Your observation has been duly noted. But it's been twelve years, almost. I would have thought by now she would have let it go."

"I can't even begin to understand women, brother, or pretend to do so. Sigrid hasn't left you for Midgard, so I suppose you still have a fighting chance."

"I think the only reason why she hasn't is because of her oath to Odin, and because of the children."

"The oath to Father died with him. If Sigrid ever chooses to leave, I will not prevent her."

"I'll be sure to tell her that."

Thor turned his head and looked at his brother. "Look at us. My Queen has deserted me. Your lady distrusts you. We have a mischievous scamp on the verge of becoming heir to the throne. Who says life is boring?"

Loki had to laugh at that. "I think I would like boring."

"Legends aren't made of boring things, brother."

"I grow weary of making legends."

Thor's smile faded. "As do I. It surprises me but...as do I."

"Time has made both of us wiser, I think."

"One would hope."

#

Jormungr faced two of his father's strongest warriors. One he defeated but the other took advantage of a misstep and pinned him to the floor.

"Release him." Thrym frowned at him from beside the practice ring. "Do it again."

And they did. Again, Jormungr was defeated from behind. The weaponsmaster approached the King, saying, "My liege, he is too young to be facing two opponents at once."

"He will learn to defend himself properly."

"My liege-"

"Silence."

They passed the morning in this manner and, exhausted, Jormungr ran away to the library to finally do the research he needed. To his surprise, the Quatrain was there.

"How is our prince today?" asked the lead priestess.

Jormungr bowed, wincing as he did so. "I am well."

"Are you?" The priestess laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and began to hum. The strains of her magic wrapped around him, healing the remains of the bruises. "Your father pushes you too hard, we think." She removed her hand.

"It is only because I am smaller than most."

"But not a runt. He forgets that, we think."

Jormungr shifted a little. "I don't think he likes me very much."

"You remind him of someone he feels he has betrayed. It is a natural thing."

"Who do I-"

"We know you traveled to Asgard, young prince. Like the watcher Heimdall, we see all."

"I only wanted to get away for a little. Please don't tell Father."

"We will not tell him. In fact, we will help you."

"Why?" The Quatrain never did anything without a price, unless the King bid them to do it.

"Because a friendship between princes is a good thing." Reaching into her robes, she drew out a small book. "This contains a spell that will allow you to pass among Midgardians. Not even the great Loki can see through this. But you must conduct it in a circle wrought in silver and everything must be done exactly as directed." She held out the book.

Slowly, Jormungr took it. "I don't know enough about magic for a shape change."

"You know more than you realize, and Prince Baldur is very well learned as well. You should have no problem."

He looked down at the book. "What do I owe you, priestess?"

No one answered. Looking up, he found himself alone.


	4. Impromptu Dinner Guest

"I don't know, Jor," said Baldur. "Father forbid me from even doing research on this."

It was two nights after their first meeting and they were sitting on the floor of Baldur's bedchamber. Between them laid the book the four priestesses had given Jormundr.

"You're very talented, though," said Jor. "And the Quatrain made it sound like we could do it."

"My father is the most talented sorcerer in all of Asgard, maybe even in the nine realms, and even he didn't dare study shape change until he'd been working magic for a century. And he still doesn't do it that often. I've only seen him turn into a bird once."

"I've read this twice, Baldur. It sounds really simple."

"Magic is never simple. It just feels it."

"I think we should try it."

Baldur sighed. "What did they say we need?"

"A circle wrought in silver. Does Prince Loki have one?"

"In his study."

"Is he in there tonight?"

"No. He and Mother went to visit the Queen Mother. But they'll be back for supper."

"When is supper?"

Baldur looked at a little gold clock on a nearby table. "An hour."

"And the nursemaid? Where is she?"

"Brin's with Joan, who's sick."

"So she won't notice if we work magic in your father's study?"

"Only if we mess up and set the place on fire or something."

"Then I say now is our best chance."

Baldur took a deep breath and looked at his friend. The Frost Giant's face was eager and excited. Baldur very much did not want to disappoint his new friend.

"All right," he replied. "But if we do this, you'll have supper with me and my parents."

"That is fine."

"How did you get away from your parents?"

"I said I was tired. They left me be."

"Huh." They got up and left the room.

"What?"

"Mother wouldn't let me just say I was tired. She'd make sure I wasn't sick or anything."

"My mother would have done the same but Father required her attention tonight."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know."

Loki's study was dark when they entered. Baldur lit a few lamps with a whisper of magic and led Jor to the large silver circle set into the floor in the back of the room. He took the book from the Giant, who went to stand in the circle's center.

"I've never heard of singing magic before," Baldur said.

"Really? That's how all of our magic works."

"One day, I want to go to Jotunheim and see for myself."

"You'd like it. There's nowhere more beautiful."

Taking a deep breath, Baldur opened the book to the appropriate page and began to sing, his voice a childish tenor rising in the air. After a moment, Jor's own voice joined his and their voices blended in harmony as the magic grew. It charged the room with the feeling of impending lightning. Baldur's skin tightened and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He had never dealt with anything this powerful and his stomach tightened with fear. He chanced a glance at Jor, who stood strong and fearless. Bolstered by his friend's strength, he carried on.

A mist began to crowd around Jor, hiding him from sight. After a moment, his voice was cut short with a cry of pain and the floor rattled. He must have fallen. Baldur's voice hesitated but Jor cried, "Keep going!"

Straightening his shoulders, Baldur turned the page and continued singing the spell. His nerves tightened and fatigue dragged at his shoulders. How much longer could he keep this up? Then, with a snap and a crack, light flashed through the room, the air filled with the scent of ozone as the magic released itself, and Baldur knew to stop singing.

He gaped as he stared at the little, naked boy laying curled in the center of the circle. "Jor? Jor, are you okay?" He dropped the book and ran up to Jor, who was just beginning to push himself into a seated position.

"I am well," he replied, rubbing his face. Suddenly, he jerked back his hands to stare at them before slowly looking up at Baldur.

"Wow." Baldur knelt in front him. "You look like you could be my brother."

"I do?"

"Yes. Look."

Baldur helped him up and led him to a mirror, where they stood side by side. It was true. Jor had black hair, just like Baldur, except it was straight, like Loki's. His eyes were blue, though a much paler shade. They were of the same height. Jor was slimmer and leaner than Baldur but they both had the same nose and lips.

"I wonder why," mused Jor.

"Maybe you look like the person you work the spell with."

"Maybe."

"Good news is, I think I have some clothes that might fit you. Wait here."

Baldur ran out to his room, where he rooted around in his wardrobe until he found an old pair of pants and shirt that could have belonged to any kid in Asgard. It wasn't even his usual colors. The pants were black and the shirt a pale green. He grabbed a pair of boots and socks before rushing back to the study. Jor was singing low, waving his arms.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Clearing the magic. I do that when I don't want my father to catch me working."

"Great idea. Here."

As Jor dressed, they worked out a cover story. Baldur wouldn't have thought of it if his mother hadn't asked him so many questions the other day. Once his friend was dressed and they felt reasonably sure they could lie their way out of any tight spot, they left the study as they found it and went to sit by the fire pit in the main chamber.

#

They weren't a minute too soon. As soon as they sat down, the door opened and in walked Baldur's parents.

"Mother, Father," he said, jumping to his feet. "Meet my friend Jor! Jor, meet my parents, Prince Loki and Lady Sigrid."

Jor, suddenly nervous, stood and bowed. "My lord and lady. It is an honor to meet you."

"Well, hello, Jor," said Lady Sigrid. "Baldur didn't mention you were coming for supper."

"I'm sorry, Mother," said Baldur. "It was a last minute thing. Is it all right?"

Sigrid looked at Prince Loki, who shrugged, saying, "It's fine with me."

"How's Grandmother?" asked Baldur.

"She is well."

Sigrid said, "I'll have an extra setting sent up." She walked away, going into the bedchamber.

"Jor," said Loki, "how did you and my son meet?"

"Um," said Jor, "I was visiting my cousin Emmerich and got turned around looking for him. Baldur showed me the way."

"Baldur can be very helpful." Loki came around and sat by the fire pit. "How are your studies going, Baldur?"

"Going all right. Lord Bjork wants me to learn an instrument."

Jor watched as Baldur and Loki had a conversation. At one point, Loki laughed, putting his arm around his son and hugging him. Jor's heart nearly broke. Why couldn't he have such a father?

Sigrid and a handmaid came out of the bedchamber. The handmaid curtsied to Loki before leaving. Loki asked Sigrid, "How is Joan?"

"The fever has broken. She'll be fine by morning. Jor, please, sit."

Jor sat on the edge of one of the benches, feeling uncomfortable and out of place as Sigrid sat on the other side of Baldur, who was telling a story he had read out of a book. It was like a scene from a poem, the three of them by the fire pit. Jor had never felt more alone before.

"Jor," said Baldur, pulling him from the trance. "Come sit closer."

He did and nearly jumped out of his skin when Sigrid wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders. Before long, Loki had them laughing at a story involving Volstagg and a keg of ale with an endless bottom.

The handmaid reappeared in the doorway. "Supper is ready, my lords and lady."

They ate at a table in the garden. Jor laughed and listened to the stories swapped around, though he noticed Sigrid looking sad and distant once. Loki noticed at the same time, for he put his hand over hers. She squeezed it a moment before pulling it away. Jor glanced at Baldur, who looked disturbed. Loki broke the moment by telling a riddle, which they all took a turn at guessing the answer. Jor answered correctly and was rewarded with a warm smile and a compliment.

The evening ended all too soon. Baldur made a show of walking Jor out.

"Can you change back, you think?" asked Baldur.

"I think so. Yes. I'm sure of it."

"When will I see you again?"

"Can you meet me tomorrow night, very late, at the garden where we first met?"

"I think so."

"I'll see you then."

Closing his eyes, Jor arranged the lines of magic and stepped through. In a moment, he was in his old chambers on Jotunheim and he shivered in the sudden, unexpected cold. He stripped off his borrowed finery and hid it away at the bottom of a trunk. Then, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths, he reached for his old form. With a shiver, he grew back into it. He looked down at his blue, lined hands and wished he really was that Asgardian boy he had pretended to be.

#

After Baldur had been put to bed and Sigrid had retired as well, Loki went into his study for a little late night reading. He paused in the open door as he listened to Sigrid singing Joan a lullaby. It reminded him of wind on icy bluffs and-

He cut the thought short as pain cut through his heart. He couldn't be reminded of that. Closing the door behind him, he lit the lamps with a thought and began to peruse the shelves for the book he needed. Not seeing it on one side of the room, he crossed to the other, his foot hitting something as he went. Looking down, he saw a small book.

Picking it up, Loki flipped it open. It was a short treatise on shape changing. He didn't recognize it as his own and the technique was of Jotunheim origin.

As he read, a suspicion began to rankle in his mind.


	5. Beneath the Sycamore

I awoke first the next morning. Propping up on an elbow, I watched Loki sleep. His face was peaceful and serene. I was reminded, suddenly, of our year and a half in our English cottage and I longed to be there again. Those were simpler times.

A dry cough drew my attention to the cot across the room. Joan had her own small bedchamber but when she fell ill, I had Brin set up a cot in our room so we could keep an eye on her. It was rare for Asgardians to fall ill and perhaps I became too protective when one of my children suddenly didn't feel well. Getting out of the bed, I checked on Joan, but she slept peacefully. Her forehead felt cool.

The main chamber door opened and I heard Brin enter. Quickly, I slipped out of the room.

"My lady," whispered Brin. "How is Joan this morning?"

"The fever has broken. Brin, come with into the garden."

The handmaid followed me outside. "Is everything well, my lady?"

"Brin, did you get a good look at Baldur's friend last night?"

"Yes."

"Did you think he resembled Baldur?"

"I did, my lady, but I didn't wish to bring it up."

"Hmm. Do you know of any children named Emmerich? Jor claimed to be his cousin."

Brin frowned as she thought. "Yes. Yes, there is a little boy named Emmerich, but I wasn't aware he had any cousins in the city. His parents are from a small village. My lady, what are you suspecting?"

"I don't know. Something is bothering me."

"My lady, there can only be one reason why Jor would resemble Baldur so strongly."

"I know."

"But Prince Loki wouldn't-"

"He did. On Jotunheim."

Her face softened. "Not because he chose to do so."

"How do we know? We only have Loki's word for it."

"My lady, he was grief-stricken when you died. Such a man would not go find some woman in the city with you back from the grave."

I sighed, seeing the logic in Brin's words. But what other explanation could there be?

"I suggest speaking to Loki about it," she concluded.

"I will consider that, Brin." I shrugged. "Who knows? It could be a fluke. I had a friend once who resembled me strongly and we bore no relation to each other."

"That may be the way of it, my lady."

The door from the chambers opened and Loki, dressed only in his sleep pants, stepped out. "Is everything all right?" he asked.

"Fine," I replied quickly. "Thank you, Brin."

Brin curtsied and walked past Loki into the chambers. Loki came to stand in front of me. "You weren't in bed when I woke," he said. "I was worried."

"I only needed to speak to Brin about something."

"About what?"

I almost didn't say anything. But the angry knot in my gut, that had formed since last night, twitched and I couldn't keep my mouth closed. "Jor very strongly resembled Baldur, don't you think?"

He blinked, clearly surprised by my question. "I do."

"And Brin says that the only Emmerich in the Palace has parents from the country, not the city, so who is this boy?" I frowned. "Who are his parents?" I gave him a significant look.

Loki's face closed down. "If you are insinuating I fathered a bastard child, who I then introduced, or allowed to be introduced, to Baldur, then you are not the woman I married."

I twitched as the words struck home. "A lot has changed between us, Loki, but I still love you. I'm only trying to fathom why this Jor looks so much like our son, and why his story is coming up false."

"I am concerned as well."

"We should forbid Baldur from seeing him again."

"No. I can watch over him, learn who this boy is, and perhaps trace back to those who sent him if anyone."

"While our son is in danger?"

"He will not be in any danger as long as I watch over him." He placed his hands on my shoulders, staring into my eyes. "Sigrid, I swear it."

A part of me screamed to not trust him, that trusting only lead to ruin and pain. Twice, I had trusted him. Twice, he had failed me. But what recourse did I have? Licking my lips, I nodded.

"Very well," I said, my voice catching. "But if any harm comes to him, Loki..."

"He will be safe." Pulling me close, he kissed me. Despite myself, I relaxed at the taste of mint and the cool feel of his lips.

#

That night, Baldur met Jor in the garden. "I have an idea," he said. "Let's go to the city. I know a secret way."

"All right." Jor smiled. He was in his Asgardian form, wearing the clothes from last night. "Are we going to be invisible?"

"For a little while. Want me to show you how it works?"

"Please!"

Baldur taught Jor the spell, how it worked, and let the Frost Giant boy try it out. When he had it perfected, they left the garden and skulked through the halls, leaving by the back way. They took a footpath down from the Palace, winding through several alleys, before coming out into a deserted city street. Jor dropped the invisibility.

Baldur pulled out a thick bone.

"What's that for?" asked Jor.

"Sometimes, when I come down to the city, there's—here, boy!"

A large black dog came trotting out of the shadows, his pink tongue lolling out of his mouth. Baldur gave the dog the bone, which he began to chew happily.

"I call him Fenrir," said Baldur. "He likes to follow me around when I sneak into the city."

"I've always wanted a pet." Jor tentatively petted the dog, who thumped his thick tail. Suddenly, the dog dropped his bone and turned, shoving his nose into Jor's chest. The boy laughed and gently scratched Fenrir's ears.

"Come," said Baldur. "We don't have a lot of time."

He led the way down the lamplit streets, Fenrir following with the bone clamped between his jaws. The sound of laughter drew them up short at the end of the street. Baldur gestured for Jor to follow him as he crept up to the side of a building and peeked around the corner. Jor did the same, crouching down as he did so.

Several boys stood in a courtyard, talking and laughing.

"Who are they?" asked Jor.

"The sons of some of the soldiers at the Palace."

"Are they friends?"

He snorted derisively. "No. They pick on me a lot. Call me a freak."

"What is a...freak?"

"Someone who isn't normal."

Jor was quiet for a moment. Then, he took a deep breath and blew toward the boys. The boys shuddered as if caught in a high gale and began to walk away. But the cobblestones were slick with ice and they toppled to the ground, shouting. Baldur clapped his hand over his mouth to stifle his giggles as he watched the boys trying to stand but unable to do so. Fenrir whined behind them.

"It's okay, boy," said Jor.

The boys were making so much noise that a guard on his nightly rounds appeared from out of an alley to investigate.

"We better go," said Baldur, turning and running. Jor ran after him, Fenrir keeping pace with them. They didn't stop until they climbed a tall hill, collapsing beneath a sycamore tree and whooping with laughter.

When their laughter winded down, the boys looked out over the city. Fenrir laid against Baldur's leg, his head on the boy's ankle. The bone was gone, having been dropped during their flight. No one spoke for a while as they took in the city below and the sea beyond.

"Tell me about Jotunheim, Jor," said Baldur.

"It's a land of ice and snow. There's magic in everything, even the air. But it's not your kind of magic. Your kind of magic feels like a mathematics lesson. Our magic is like music. There's a constant song flowing around us all the time. It keeps the world alive." He went on to describe the dancing lights in the sky, the festivals were hundreds of Jotuns gathered to sing magic, and of the great Ice Palace, from which his father reigned.

"It sounds wonderful," breathed Baldur. "I want to go one day."

"Maybe when I'm older. It's too dangerous right now."

"What do you mean?"

Jor's eyes filled with sadness. "My father hates me. Sometimes, he hurts me. If he found out I had brought an Asgardian to Jotunheim..." He shrugged, playing with a nearby stick. Fenrir stood suddenly and cuddled up against Jor.

"But you're not afraid to come visit me."

"No one cares what I do when I go to my room."

After a long moment, Baldur wrapped his arm around Jor. No one spoke as Jor leaned his head down and cried.

#

Once Baldur was tucked away in bed and Jor gone back to Jotunheim, a large black dog appeared out of the shadows in Loki's study. Shadow swirled around it, flowing away to reveal Loki.

Loki dropped into the nearest chair, burying his face in his hands.

Jor was his son.

Jor was his son.

It explained how he looked so much like Baldur. It explained why Thrym would hurt his own child. It explained how Jor smelled of Loki's magic. It fit.

How in the nine realms was he going to tell Sigrid?


	6. A Sense of Foreboding

A cloud hung over the breakfast table, it seemed. Baldur looked ready to drop from exhaustion. Loki was stern and monosyllabic. Joan, who normally lightened up even the worse of atmospheres with just a smile and a well-timed exclamation, was quiet herself, only just now getting on the mend.

After Baldur went to his studies, and I had sent Joan to be with Brin for the day (she was going down into the city to visit her sister), I followed Loki into our bedchamber. He immediately began putting on his more formal attire.

"What are you doing?" I asked. "I wasn't aware of any formal events today."

"There aren't. I am going to request an official audience with Thor."

"Why?"

He stopped. His back was to me but I could see the tension in his shoulders. A thread of fear wrapped around my heart.

"Loki, what is it? What did you learn about Jor?"

"Not Jor. Jormundr."

I blinked, surprised. "The son of Thrym?"

He didn't answer as he pulled on his boots.

"What is he doing here?"

Loki turned to face me, his expression clouded. "He is being ill-treated. I believe he came to Asgard in order to get away. I know he returns to Jotunheim every night but it's only a matter of time before Thrym catches on to what he's doing. Baldur is already friends with him, so it seems to me that we could ask Thrym to allow us to foster Jormundr."

"Foster him?"

"It's a common practice among allied kingdoms. Father fostered an elf for a short while. One of their king's younger sons."

"So, we would be getting Jormundr out of an abusive situation, gaining a stable friend for Baldur, and strengthening our alliance with Jotunheim."

"Yes."

"Sounds like the perfect arrangement, where everyone wins. I'm sure Thor will agree to it."

"As am I."

I studied him for a long moment. "Then what else is wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"Loki, I have known you long enough to know that something else is wrong."

He didn't answer for a moment, then he crossed the space between us, so close he was almost touching me. But he didn't touch me, as if by conscious choice. His eyes were deep, dark, and unreadable. I gazed back up at him and the whole world lurched. As I had done that day years ago in the SHIELD bunker, I saw into Loki's heart, into a maelstrom of anger, agony, and, most of all, fear.

Tears burned my eyes and, before I could stop myself, I kissed him, as if that would push away all of that pain. He wrapped his arms around me, burying his hand in my hair. We kissed hungrily for a time. Suddenly, he scooped me up and carried me to bed. He pressed me down onto the sheets, his hands wandering over me as he kissed along my jaw, down my neck, and nibbling on my shoulder.

"Loki," I gasped. "Stop."

He did, his face flushed and his desire for me plain in his expression.

"Tell me," I pleaded.

"If I tell you," he said, "you will leave me."

"Why-" And it clicked. My heart went cold. "He's your son, not Thrym's."

"Sigrid, I swear to you, I didn't know."

I was already pushing him off of me, getting up and going to stand in front of the window as I desperately tried to get a handle on my feelings. After a few moments, I turned around. Loki sat on the edge of the bed, watching me as if expecting me to draw a dagger and try to plunge it into his heart.

"If you had," I croaked, then cleared my voice. "If you had known?"

"I still would have returned to you, Sigrid. But I would have tried to do more for Jormungr sooner."

"But what if I wasn't pregnant and dying? Would you still have come home?"

"What kind of-"

"Answer me!" I shouted. "Would you still have come home?"

"I will always come home to you."

"Even though you loved her?"

"I did not love Angrboda."

"Are you sure? Because I know you long for Jotunheim."

"If you felt what I felt there, you wouldn't ask me that question."

I shook my head, trying to figure out what I should feel about learning my husband had a child with another woman. The rationale that Loki had accepted Angrboda out of necessity crumbled in the face of this news. I felt betrayed even as I knew it was irrational to be so. I tried to remember what I saw in Loki's heart just a few moments ago, to cling to it as an irrefutable evidence of love for me.

"You would have me raise Jor?" I asked, my voice choking.

He stood. "I have no right to ask anything of you, Sigrid. I don't even have the right to ask you to stay."

I stared at him, not comprehending his words even as he spoke them.

"Thor told me that if you should ever desire to leave Asgard, you are free to do so. Your oath to Odin Allfather died with him, and it is not recognized by Thor Allfather. If you should decide to leave Asgard, even taking the children with you, I will not stop you. But I must ask Thor to foster Jormungr. I will not leave a son of mine to be ridiculed and beaten, as I was."

I could only nod and say, "I understand."

"I will leave you, my lady."

His voice sounded like it did when I first met him: all despair and hopelessness. I barely noticed his bow, not realizing he left until the door clicked closed behind him. I stumbled to the vanity, where I sank into the chair, and burst into tears.

#

"Foster Prince Jormundr?" asked Thor.

They stood in one of the many rooms from which Thor conducted Asgard's daily business. The servants and nobles were dismissed when Loki formally asked for an audience with his brother. Thor, his hands behind his back, stood by a table bearing several documents waiting for his seal.

"Yes," Loki replied. "It is an advantageous idea that will bind our kingdoms all the closer together."

"Hmm. I like the idea. I will send an emissary to King Thrym immediately."

"Thank you."

Thor frowned at his brother. "Is something else the matter, Loki?"

Thor and Loki would never be truly close, but if Loki's marriage was on the verge of dissolving, Thor would want to know. Loki tasted the words on his tongue but couldn't find the strength to say them aloud.

"It's nothing, brother," he said.

Thor nodded but appeared unconvinced.

#

In the city, down by the docks, two men got into an argument over a crate. The men tussled, people scattering out of their way. Soldiers came running to break them up, but before they reached them, the crate was knocked from its perch on the dock.

It fell, shattering against the rocks below, a large white egg falling out and rolling into the water.

"No!" cried one of the men.

The guards tackled and arrested them for disturbing the peace. But no matter how much they were interrogated, they would not reveal the contents of that crate.


	7. To Defend the Realm

"Prince Jormundr, your father the King demands your presence."

Jor put away the book he was studying and followed the servant from the library to the throne room, wondering the whole time what this could be about.

His father, Thrym, sat on the great throne of ice at the top of a set of stairs. The back of the throne grew up into a latticework of branches towering over the king's head. It made Jor think of the sycamore under which he and Baldur had sat last night. At the foot of the stairs stood an Asgardian, swathed in woolen clothes and grey furs, and near him kneeled a Jotun prisoner under guard.

Fear shot through Jor. Had they found out? Baldur wouldn't tell on him, so how?

"Jormundr," said Thrym, his voice rumbling down from the throne, " this is Fandral of Asgard."

Jor bowed toward Fandral. "Good day, sir."

Fandral bowed back. "An honor to meet you, Prince Jormundr."

"Fandral," said Thrym, "brings tidings of an interesting nature. The King of Asgard has offered to bring you into his House as a foster child."

Jor blinked. He understood what it meant to be fostered out to an allied kingdom. He just never expected it.

"However," continued the King, "I cannot allow you to go without first declaring you my heir."

The purpose of the prisoner's presence began to dawn on Jor and he started to feel sick to his stomach.

"I will declare you as such, before your twelfth birthday, if you do your duty now and prove yourself a Jotun worthy of the crown."

Angrboda came around the stairs, bearing on a cushion a silver knife. Frost Giants rarely used handmade weapons, preferring their own magic, unless it was for a special ceremony. The knife Angrboda brought to her son had been used in the ritual for the coming of age of princes since time began.

He looked up at his mother, whose face was carefully void of every emotion, save for her eyes. Tears stood on the edges of them. Jor looked back down at the knife and slowly took it.

"What is happening?" asked Fandral.

"It is our custom," explained Thrym, "that a prince who wishes to take the throne must slay a prisoner so that he may show his willingness to defend the realm and dispense justice."

"He is but a boy!"

"Do not interfere with our ways, Asgardian."

A rustling sound drew Jor's eyes up. Frost Giants lined the galleries overlooking the throne room. He knew, suddenly, with a sinking feeling, that if he refused to do his duty, it wouldn't matter if he did it later on his birthday. These Frost Giants, one day to be his subjects, would not forget that their King shirked his duty. And Jor very much wanted to be a good King.

With slow steps, he advanced upon the kneeling prisoner, who was turned to face him. Even kneeling, the Frost Giant was taller than him. The prisoner watched Jormundr, lips set in a grim line.

Jor realized he was shaking, the tip of the knife vibrating in his grip. Tears stung his eyes and his stomach roiled. Fear gripped him. How could he do this? How could he take someone's life? And he thought of Baldur, and his family, and how much he wanted to be a part of that. The thought steadied him. If he did this, he would escape. And the prisoner was going to die anyway. Lifting his chin, he took a firm stance in front of the prisoner and slammed the knife's blade into his chest.

The Giant grunted and fell over. An almost-dreamlike feeling of shock washed over Jor. Numb, he jerked out the knife, and someone took it from him.

As if from very far away, he heard his father say, "Prince Jormundr, you are worthy of the throne and of my crown. I name you Heir of my Kingdom."

Applause and cheers erupted from the galleries.

"You may go and prepare to depart with Fandral this day," concluded Thrym, "while I negotiate the finer details with him."

Jor bowed low to his father, and only slightly to Fandral (for he now outranked him), but didn't really look at either. He barely felt his mother's hand on his shoulder as she guided him out of the throne room.

#

Down on the docks, shouts and conversations filled the air as people unloaded barges and ships, sold wares, and moved goods from dock to warehouse or cart. Some people milled around, speaking with friends or waiting for a ship to arrive.

No one really noticed the strange wake in the water at first. It traced its way a few leagues away along the coast, going out into the sea before doubling back, coming more closely. A few ships rocked as it passed and the people on them looked up curiously.

With a boom, a head on a long neck erupted from the water, turned, and snatched up an ox tied to a post. Panic broke out as the creature ate the ox in one gulp. People screamed and ran, knocking over carts, wagons, stands, and each other in their race to leave. Soldiers with bows and arrows raced forward and shot at the creature, which hissed at them, a giant fringe expanding around its angular head, before plunging back down into the water below.

#

"It was positively barbaric!" cried Fandral.

He, Thor, Volstagg, Hogun, and Loki stood in the small chamber, gathered around the fire pit. Loki kept his face carefully without expression as he listened to Fandral's report.

"And how is the child now?" asked Thor.

"If Jotuns could be as white as a sheet, he would be. He barely spoke three words on the way here." Fandral drank from a goblet of wine. "I had him taken to his new chambers and told him to wait for you to call for him."

"I cannot believe Thrym would ask his child, who is barely a man, to slay a prisoner."

"It is their custom, apparently."

Loki decided that, if he could get away with it, he was going to flay Thrym alive.

"Loki," Thor said.

He snapped out of his thoughts. "Yes?"

"Out of all of us, you have the most experience with children. Perhaps you can go greet our new guest?"

"Of course."

"Maybe Baldur would like to meet him?"

That made Loki smile a little. "I'm sure he would."

Running was heard coming down the hall and the door leading into the room burst open. A soldier bowed low. "Your Majesty, I apologize for the intrusion, but a sea serpent is attacking the docks."

"Send soldiers immediately," said Thor. "Have our horses saddled." The soldier bowed again and left. "Looks like Prince Jormungr will have to wait."

#

Jor wandered around the room, looking at the lavish decorations. He could hardly believe he was there, away from his father at last. He did miss his mother, though, but perhaps she could come visit. Without warning, the prisoner's face flashed through his mind and Jor squeezed his eyes shut against it. He would not think about it, about how the Giant's flesh parted beneath the tip of the blade and how his arm seemed to still vibrate from the impact.

The door leading into the chamber opened and Baldur burst through. "Jor!" he cried, coming to stand by the pit.

"Baldur," he replied, "guess what? My father says I may live here now. I am to be fostered into the House." He walked over to his friend.

"I know. My teacher just told me. This is going to be great. Now I can show you even more around here. Maybe Father will let us go-"

The tromping of many boots in the hall interrupted them.

"What's happening?" asked Jor.

"I don't know." Baldur walked toward the open door and Jor followed.

In the hall, soldiers were running by.

"Hold," cried Baldur.

One of the soldiers stopped and bowed to him. "Yes, Prince Baldur."

"What's going on?"

"A sea serpent is attacking the docks. I must go and assist my brothers in arms."

"Yes. Of course."

The soldier bowed again and ran away. Baldur turned to Jor. "We have to help them," he said.

"How?" Jor asked.

"I don't know but we can't just stay here. I'm going to go get my armor. Do you have any?"

"Jotuns do not use armor."

"Oh. Well, come on, then."

They left the chambers and raced up to Baldur's and his family's chambers. When they entered the garden, they could hear his mother speaking to someone. Curious, they went into the main chamber. Sigrid stood in the center of the room, the finishing touches of her armor being put on by a maid. Jor stared, having never seen amber and gold armor before. Sometimes Asgardians in armor came to Jotunheim but it didn't gleam with the luster of Sigrid's armor.

She looked up, her eyes landing on Jormungr. A strange expression crossed her face. "Is that Prince Jormungr?"

"My lady," he replied, bowing.

She nodded back. "Baldur, I'm going down to the docks to help the men. You stay here."

"But, Mother-" protested Baldur.

"No arguments." She took up her horned helm and pulled it on, buckling it beneath her chin. "I will return home when I can."

She walked passed them, pausing only long enough to touch Baldur on the shoulder, and then she was gone, the maid hard on her heels.

"We're not staying," said Jor.

Baldur snorted. "Of course not. Come."

In his room, he began pulling out plate armor enameled in green and blue.

"Do sea serpents attack often?" asked Jor.

"No. This is the first I've ever heard of it. Can you help me dress?"

"I may ruin it by touching it. A Giant can control what he freezes, most of the time, but I make mistakes sometimes."

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

Tentatively, Jor helped Baldur get into his armor, taking care to not touch him. His weapon was a short, child's sword that he belted to his hip. Once all was ready, they left out the back way, people staring with wide eyes as Prince Baldur and a Frost Giant boy ran by.

They didn't stop running until they reached the top of a high hill overlooking the docks. Below them, soldiers swarmed the docks.

"There," cried Baldur, pointing. "There is my father and Uncle Thor!"

Jor looked and saw a man in a red cape and a man in a green cape with a horned helm sitting astride horses.

"If they see us," said Jormungr, "they will send us back."

"I know. Oh, no."

"What is it?"

Baldur pointed. The sea serpent, who reared up almost as tall as the Palace, blasted the men on the docks with a torrent of water before splashing back underwater. The ripples on the surface traced away from the docks.

"I don't think they can see where it's going," commented Jor, feeling fear grip him again. How were they supposed to defeat that?

"I don't think so, either." He gasped. "He's heading for the rainbow bridge." He looked at his friend. "Can you make us go there, like when you come from Jotunheim to here?"

Jor frowned, thinking about that. "Yes, I think so."

"Then let's go. We have to defend Asgard!"

Jor gripped his friend's shoulder, aligned the magic with his mind, and pulled him through, along the dark Way.


	8. Homecoming

Baldur opened his mouth to scream but the air was sucked away from him as he and Jormungr tore down the Way. Colors flashed around him, but it was all silence. Forces pulled on him as he flew and the only thing that kept him from slinging away into nothing was Jor's hand on his shoulder. Then, with a flash, sound and air returned. He stumbled forward and fell to his knees on the rainbow bridge.

"Wow," he croaked. Leaning forward, he vomited.

"Are you all right?"

Baldur spat. "Yes." He rose shakily to his feet. "How can you stand that?"

Jor shrugged. "I suppose I got used to it."

The bridge shuddered, suddenly, and they waved their arms to maintain balance.

"How are we to fight this thing?" asked Jor.

"With magic, I guess."

The serpent's head and neck rose from the water, glistening in the sun. Its scales were dappled in green, blue, and brown. It had a sharp, angular head and a fan folded down against its neck. When it hissed at the boys, the fan unfurled, forming a large crest.

Unsheathing his blade, Baldur cried, "For Asgard!"

Jor formed an ice blade over his fist. "For Asgard!"

The serpent snaked its head down to snap at them with its immense jaws and the boys swiped at its muzzle, drawing blood. The serpent drew its head back.

"It's too big," said Jor.

"Be brave, Jor." Baldur went to the edge of the bridge and pointed at the water with his blade. Concentrating, he caused the water to boil around the creature. It screamed, bringing its head down on them.

"Baldur!" yelled Jor.

But before he could react, Baldur was knocked from the bridge and he fell headlong into the sea.

#

"Where is it going?" asked Thor, squinting in the sun as the serpent dove back under the water.

Loki frowned, watching the wake. "I believe the rainbow bridge." He looked in that direction and saw movement on the bridge. Two small figures stood there. "Someone is already there."

"Who?"

Loki ordered a bowl of water to be brought to him. When a soldier came with it, he took it and froze the water with a breath. He scryed the bridge and his heart dropped.

"Baldur and Jormungr," he said. He looked at Sigrid, who had come on her horse to stand behind him. "Baldur is in his armor. They intend to the fight the creature."

"To the bridge!" cried Thor.

Loki threw the bowl away and galloped his horse away from the docks, Thor and Sigrid hard on his heels. They thundered down the streets, coming around to the great gates, which opened for them. Bursting through, they were in time to see Baldur fall down into the water.

"No!" screamed Sigrid.

Jormungr screamed, as well, and threw himself at the creature, grabbing it by the head. The serpent reared up, shaking its head to dislodge the Giant. It screamed as Jor froze him with his touch and shook all the harder. Jor was thrown free and fell near the place where Baldur had gone.

Loki stopped his horse near the creature and dismounted. Reaching with his power, he stirred the waters of the sea, and threw the waves at the creature, freezing them as he did so. The spears of ice impaled the serpent. Blood foamed the water and it fell, roaring, into the depths. Loki ripped off his helmet and stripped off as much of his armor as he could do away with easily.

"Loki," said Thor, but he ignored his brother and dove from the bridge to the sea.

The saltwater stung his eyes when he opened them. But the water was clear and he could see easily as he swam, his head swinging frantically to find his sons.

They were beside one of the bridge pilings. Baldur was unconscious while Jor struggled feebly. Of course, Jor wouldn't know how to swim and Baldur's armor weighed him down. Loki swam over to them and looped an arm around each of their chests. Kicking his feet, he struggled to the surface. But they were too heavy and unwieldy. He couldn't swim with them both.

He was going to have to choose one.

Panic and fear exploded in his chest. How was he supposed to choose? He couldn't. This was asking too much.

Sigrid's face flashed through his mind as he struggled. She would want him to save Baldur. But what of Jor? Jor, who had been through so much already? He was Loki's son, as well. How could he choose? His lungs ached for air.

Up above, something crashed through the surface, swimming down toward him. Red, flaming hair billowed. Sigrid. She came down beside him and gathered Baldur in her arms before turning to swim for the surface. Loki readjusted his grip on Jor and swam after her.

They broke the surface of the water, gasping for air. Ropes were thrown down and they grabbed them with their free arms, the soldiers on the bridge pulling them up. More soldiers came forward to help them onto the bridge.

"He's not breathing," said Sigrid. "Stars above, he's not breathing!" She began to breathe into Baldur's mouth and press on his chest.

Loki blew into Jor's mouth as well. The Frost Giant boy hacked, rolling onto his side to vomit up saltwater slush. Loki patted him on the back.

"Bring it all up, son," he said, not thinking.

Jormundr looked up at him and his eyes went wide. Loki realized that, in touching him, his true nature was bleeding out of his skin. Loki took his hand away.

"I will explain everything," he said.

"Loki," sobbed Sigrid. "I can't get him to breathe."

Loki moved over to Baldur. His lips were turning blue and he was utterly still. Loki began to work on his chest and blow into his mouth.

"What were you thinking?" Sigrid screamed at Jormundr.

"W-we wanted to protect Asgard," he replied. "I-I didn't mean... I'm sorry."

Suddenly, Baldur arched his back and vomited water. Loki quickly turned him onto his side. Baldur hacked and coughed, taking shaky gasps.

"Bring stretchers," ordered Thor.

Soldiers rushed to obey his orders. Loki looked up and met Sigrid's eyes. They're filled with a mix of fear, worry, and accusation.

"He'll be fine," he told her as he lifted Baldur onto a stretcher. None of the soldiers wanted to touch Jor and Loki helped him up onto a stretcher.

As the boys were carried away, Sigrid walked beside Baldur and Loki by Jor.

#

Baldur was taken to the Healing Room while Jor was taken to his chambers. After changing into dry clothes, Sigrid stayed with Baldur while Loki sat next to Jormungr as he laid in bed.

"You should sleep," Loki said.

"I can't. Will Baldur be all right?"

"He'll be fine. The Healing Room will make him better."

"Does Lady Sigrid hate me?"

"She's just afraid for Baldur."

Jor nodded.

Loki said, "I know you came to Asgard before today and befriended Baldur."

"It was wrong of me."

"No, it wasn't. And it didn't make this happen."

He was quiet for a moment. "Why did you turn blue when you touched me?"

"Because I'm a Jotun."

His eyes grew large. "But you look like an Asgardian."

"In the same way you looked like an Asgardian when you came to visit us. The Quatrain gave you that little book, didn't they?"

He nodded.

Loki sighed, wondering when the Quatrain was going to stop trying to manipulate him and his family. "Jormungr, I'm about to tell you something very important. Something you can't tell anyone. Lady Sigrid and Baldur will know, and even Joan when she's old enough, but no one else can know, not even your mother. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Prince Loki."

"Swear it."

"I swear, Prince Loki, upon Jotunheim."

Even now he hesitated. Loki wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing or not. But he remembered what it was like feeling different and not knowing why. "Did you know your mother was married to King Bjarte before she married Thrym?"

"Yes."

"When she married Thrym, she was already pregnant with you. You are Bjarte's son."

He fell quiet as he thought about it. "That must be why Mother is so sad. She probably misses Bjarte."

That cut Loki to the core. He had expected Angrboda to have moved on by now. "Jor...I am Bjarte. I am your father."

The boy stared at him. "Wh-what?"

In the simplest of terms, Loki explained what happened twelve years ago. "If I had known she carried you, I would have done things differently, Jormungr. I swear to you."

"But didn't you love my mother?"

Loki didn't answer right away, his mind weighing everything. Finally, in a low voice, he said, "Yes."

No one spoke for a long moment. It started to rain outside. Finally, Jor said, "If you loved her, why did you leave her?"

"Because I love Lady Sigrid, as well, and she was pregnant with Baldur. I had to come back to her. I didn't know your mother loved me, too. I didn't know she was pregnant with you." It was a flimsy excuse and Loki knew it, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. Anything else would hurt Jor and he didn't wish to do that.

"Do I have to go back to Jotunheim?"

"No. You can stay here. With your brother and your sister."

A genuine smile filled Jor's face and Loki smiled back.

"Now," he continued, "you must rest."

"Yes...Father."

Hearing Jor call him father was the sweetest sound he had heard in a long time.

#

I turned when the door open. Loki, wearing soft green robes, entered the observing room. Through a pane of glass, we could watch healers working on Baldur. I had been watching them, letting the events of the day whirl around in my mind, letting some things settle within me.

"How is he?" asked Loki as he came to stand beside me.

"He's going to be fine."

"But?"

"But he'll have to stay here a few days."

"It is much better than the alternative, my dear." He made no move to touch me, though I ached for him to do so. Seeing Baldur on the bridge, lifeless, had been the most terrifying thing I had ever seen.

"How is Jor?" I asked after a pause.

"Sleeping. He thinks you hate him."

I shook my head. "I shouldn't have yelled at him on the bridge."

"You were afraid for Baldur."

"But still."

"I told him."

I stared up at Loki. "What?"

"I told Jormungr I'm his father."

"How did he take it?"

"Much more calmly than I would have thought. I think it will take a few days for it to really sink in. I stressed that he tell no one. We would know but no one else could. Not even his mother."

"It's a heavy burden to lay on a child."

"I refuse to let him grow up in ignorance, as I did."

His jaw flexed and, looking up at him, my mind went over the past years. I thought about everything that had been said, been done, and been risked. I thought about our joys and tears. I thought about what I saw in his heart earlier today.

Slowly, I took his hand. "Loki..."

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

He turned to me. "For what, my dear?"

"All these years, I've been punishing you for things over which you have had no control, even while you've been trying to make good. But I've been hanging onto this little bit of hurt and..." Tears were spilling down my cheeks.

Loki raised his free hand and wiped away my tears with his thumb. "I betrayed you, Sigrid."

"No. You've done the best you can."

"I will have to leave again. The Quatrain-"

"And I know you will return to me when your time with them is through."

"You want me to return to you."

I smiled sadly. "I'm not whole without you."

"Oh, Sigrid..." Bending down, he kissed me, wrapping me in his arms. And it felt like a homecoming.

 


	9. They Who Watch

When Loki brought Baldur home four days later, the first person to hug him was Joan. She flung herself at him, wrapping her little arms around him as tightly as she could. Baldur surprised himself by hugging her back just as tightly.

"Don't drown again," she said, glaring up at him.

"I promise, Joan. I won't drown again."

Nodding firmly, she let go of him. Sigrid came forward and hugged him as well, kissing his cheek. "We have a surprise for you, Baldur," she said.

"What's that?" he asked.

She stepped back. Jor stood by the fountain, his hands clasped behind him awkwardly. Though in his Jotun form, he wore a long grey tunic over a white shirt and dark blue trousers.

"Let's sit beside the fountain," said Loki. "Except for you, Joan. You have to go with Brin now."

"But, Papa," whined Joan.

"No buts. Do as I say."

"Come, little one," said Brin. "We can play in your room."

Brin picked the small child up and carried her away as she wailed her indignation.

They sat on the benches beside the gurgling fountain, Baldur beside Jor with Loki and Sigrid on the bench across from them. Slowly, Loki began to tell his son about his having to go to Jotunheim to stop a civil war and bring peace to the nine realms.

When he finished, Baldur didn't say anything for a long moment. Finally, he said, "Jor really is my brother?"

"Yes, Baldur," replied Loki. "He really is."

"That's fantastic!" Without thinking, he grabbed Jor's hand. "We're going to have the best time ever!"

Jor stared at Baldur. "You're turning blue."

"What?" Looking down, he saw blue rippling up his hand and arm. He held up his other hand and saw it turning color as well. Strange lines were traced on the back of his hand. Reaching up, he touched his face and felt more of the lines.

"You are half-Jotun, Baldur," explained Loki. "You will always carry that heritage with you."

"But you aren't alone," interjected his mother. She took Loki's hand. "You're never alone." They smiled at each other before turning back to the boys.

"People can't know," said Loki. "It's very important that no one ever finds out. If Thrym were to ever learn that Bjarte still lived, it could mean war between our realms. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Father," he replied. He thought about everything he had just learned. He didn't understand all of it but what he didn't understand was overshadowed at the realization that he had a brother. "Can I go play with Jor?"

"Yes. You may go play. But it would be best if no one saw you as blue."

"Yes, sir." Jumping up, Baldur released Jor's hand and watched the color recede. "Come. I want to show you the orchards."

The boys ran out and Sigrid turned to her husband. "That went better than expected."

"Baldur," said Loki, "has the great gift of simply accepting others and cherishing whatever good thing is handed to him. He rather reminds me of someone I know." He smiled down at her.

"Please. He's your doppelganger in everything but the hair."

"I beg to differ." He kissed her. "Jor is just as much your son as mine, you know."

"I know." Her face saddened a little. "Angrboda must miss him terribly."

Loki nodded, his eyes going dark. "But I'm sure she'll manage. And Jor will go home on visits. Eventually, he'll go home to stay, so his people can come to know him before he takes the throne."

They were quiet a moment. She asked, "What of that sea serpent?"

"The body washed ashore last night. We found the trader who brought it from another realm. He's going to be incarcerated for some time."

"So, it seems everything has turned out well."

"For the moment." He looked around. "The boys are out playing. Brin is keeping Joan occupied." His fingers traced along the back of her neck. "Did you have any plans, my lady?"

"None at all, my lord."

"Perhaps we can...make plans?"

"That sounds lovely."

Chuckling, he kissed her again.

#

The Quatrain stood in an icy room in the bowels of their Temple. They stood around a wide font of water. No one spoke, only watched as Baldur and Jormungr played in the apple orchards behind the Palace.

They watched, silent guardians of the frozen wastelands.

They watched, waiting.

They watched.


End file.
